


Oh God, I Know You Think I'm Safe And Sound (I'm Not)

by Dracomalfoyy



Series: 23 Ways To Say I Love You [4]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Dog Cops, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Protective Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, but i think she knew that he was still a little lost, i know nat and steve seem pretty tight but i dont think she trusted him fully until civil war, idk - Freeform, like dont get me wrong i love their relationship in winter soldier, steve is a sweetheart, which means he was unsure of everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 10:57:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20357344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracomalfoyy/pseuds/Dracomalfoyy
Summary: Prompt 4 - things you said over the phone(all prompts stolen from eversncenewyork on tumblr)Title is from 'Why Do You Feel So Down?' by Declan McKenna





	Oh God, I Know You Think I'm Safe And Sound (I'm Not)

Three people in the world had Natasha's real private phone number. The first one being Clint, for reasons sappier than she would ever admit out loud. The second was Phil Coulson, but he was currently dead. The third was, shockingly, Tony Stark. Not many people took to him but Natasha respected him more than you'd think. He lived his life out loud and there was nothing wrong with that. Hell, sometimes Natasha was envious of him. She also had a fake private number for people she trusted a little less, like the rest of the Avengers, Maria Hill and Nick Fury. It was nothing against them, more being her own trust issues, but she was confident that they'd all graduate within the year. 

On a bright Friday afternoon, her private phone rang. Natasha looked around, taking stock of who was near her. It wouldn't be Tony, as he was occupied with an extremely important meeting Pepper had dragged him to. Before they left, she'd confiscated all of his tech and Tony was smart enough not to try to get it back until the end of the meeting. Phil Coulson was still dead, so it probably wasn't him. He wasn't entirely ruled out though. Which meant it had to be Clint. 

Clint, who was one week into a three-week mission with no outside contact. Yes, Clint loved breaking the rules but he wouldn't jeopardise a mission that easily. 

She picked up the phone, a feeling of unease settling in her stomach. If it was actually Clint, it wasn't good news. If it wasn't Clint, she'd been betrayed by her top 3. 

"Romanov. Who is this?" She kept her voice steady, a direct contradiction of how she was feeling. 

"Oh, hey. Its, um, it's me. Clint." Natasha rose to her feet, noting the exhaustion in his words. Not good news. She moved methodically, collecting weapons, medical supplies, keys to various vehicles. He was breathing heavily, which meant he was hurt. He'd also called her instead of SHIELD, which meant he was still in danger. 

"Where are you this time around? Do I need to find a pilot?" She asked, concern leaking into her words. She stopped outside Steve's quarters, banging harshly on the door. He answered in seconds, following her when he carried on down the corridor. 

"Would you laugh if I told you I'm in Boston? I'm gonna die in Boston, Nat." The chuckle at the end of his sentence did nothing to calm Natasha's nerves. Clint never, not even after his heart had stopped and he had to be revived in Cairo, admitted he was going to die. The calm facade she'd been effortlessly displaying shattered. She pushed Steve towards one of Tony's cars, tossing him the keys. They slid into the car, Natasha placing her bag in the backseat. 

"You're not dying in Boston Clint, I wouldn't do that to you. Injuries? What should I be expecting?" She pulled on her seatbelt. Boston was 4 hours out if they took their time. If it was really bad, they might not make it. Steve started the car, pulling out of the garage into the heavy New York traffic. 

He gasped suddenly. Natasha tightened the grip on her phone. She would not lose him like this. No way in hell. 

"I'm sorry. Just, just turn around. I'm sorry." his voice wavered, on the edge of tears. She wanted to scream at him, to cry and sob, and call him selfish. But that wouldn't keep him alive. instead Natasha Romanov, the red room trained Black Widow, begged. 

"Clint, please. Please just tell me where you are, I can find you. I will find you." Steve heard the desperation in her voice. He silently prayed that they'd make it. 

"Parking garage, near the old town hall. God, Boston sucks. Don't wanna die in Boston." Clint sounded almost childish over the phone. Each syllable carried an air of vulnerability. 

"I'm coming. I promise I'll be there soon. Just, talk to us." Natasha said into the phone. She switched it onto loudspeaker and placed it on the dashboard of the car. 

"What about?" 

"Explain dog cops to Steve. He's never seen it," she replied. Clint launched into a slightly weak explanation of the show. This was good. If he slipped up anywhere, Nat would be able to track his confusion. He'd forced her to sit through every single episode with him. She pretended to hate it, but he knew just how invested in the show she was. 

3 hours later, Clint was flagging. He'd stumbled over his words a few times, as well as explaining the Christmas special of season 4 twice. 

"We're not far out now Clint," she promised. The fact that he was still talking was good, but he was still talking in Cairo so she wasn't ruling out that he was near death. 

"Nat...I'm sorry." Before she could even take a breath to answer, the phone hung up. 

Her entire world stopped. She'd promised him that she would be there. She'd promised him that he wouldn't die in Boston. But they were still a bit away and Clint had said those words with more emotion than necessary. She knew what he meant.

"He's gonna try and die alone, isn't he?" Steve asked quietly. She nodded, struggling to piece a sentence together. 

Steve had always had a soft spot for Clint. He was brave, loyal, dedicated. He carried the same sense of guilt that Steve always had, like he didn't belong with the Avengers. The truth was that Steve didn't think they'd function without him. He made the hard bits of the job a little easier. He made them all smile. 

"I swear to God he makes the worst decisions known to man." He sped up, weaving through the traffic as they edged closer to Boston. 

"You flew a plane into the ocean, Steve, shut up." she didn't mean to be snappy, but now wasn't the time. When Clint had the recommended amount of blood and she could see him, then she'd chastise his poor decision making. 

Time dragged on as they made their way into the city. Eventually, Steve pulled into a parking garage and she sprung into awareness. She grabbed her phone from the dashboard, tapping a few times before she came up with what she wanted. She took her seatbelt off, twisting to grab her bag from behind her. 

"He's on this floor, let's go." Natasha and Steve rushed out the car, heading to the darkest corner of the ground floor. It was there they found him, lying in a puddle of presumably his own blood, next to a bloodstained harpoon. Natasha cursed under her breath as she knelt down next to him. She pulled some gauze from her bag, holding it down tight over the hole in Clint's side before trying to rouse him. Steve had gone outside to flag down the quinjet Stark had sent after them from the conference room. His way of helping as much as he could. A team of doctors flooded the garage, pushing Natasha out of the way. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes, quietly relieved that there was real medical help this time. That was something they couldn't get in Cairo. Steve placed his hands on her shoulders, steering her towards the jet behind Clint. 

Three days later, Steve rogers received a present bag. It held a plushie of a Sergeant Whiskers and a piece of paper with Natasha's private number on it. There was also a card, which had a drawing of Clint holding a harpoon and three words written in neat cursive. 'Congratulations. You've graduated.' 

(Steve hung the drawing up on his fridge.)

**Author's Note:**

> A massive thank you to everyone who has left kudos!!!! It means a lot so thank you :)) 
> 
> this isn't moving as fast as I wanted it to but I'm determined to finish it, even if it takes me forever
> 
> however, school is starting back up in a couple of weeks and then I have dance events through until December so stick with me for the time being :))
> 
> As always, bully me on tumblr —> clintbartonsbitch


End file.
